


Time’s Ticking

by ShadowyDawn



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, TimeAU, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16658194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowyDawn/pseuds/ShadowyDawn
Summary: Time is a fragile thing.  People watch it tick by, with no thought as to how it goes.  They think that time is something that can’t be stopped, that it’s a constant construct that binds us to our lives.  But what would happen if they found out?  What would they do if they knew what really happens behind the gears and mechanics of time itself?





	1. Recruitment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uni.ever.more](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=uni.ever.more).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small argument that could change the world is met with a cold and harsh ending. 
> 
> The new guy coming in might not be all he’s cracked up to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! This is chapter is a short one. Only 416 words. But the rest will be longer! Hope you guys like it!!

“We don’t need anyone else, Sir.” Declared a female voice, it was harsh and outspoken. The owner of the voice was a tall girl, no more than thirty years old. She stood with her hands firmly planted on the table in front of her. Her back was arched from standing abruptly. Her lavender eyes were wide with disbelief. 

“Hold your tongue madam. If you have any common sense, you would know not to interrupt me. Now, as I was saying. We have a rogue on our hands, and it’s my fault. I recruited him, and I feel responsible for the damage he’s caused. Now I know two wrongs don’t make a right? But I know someone from his past who can help us.” At the head of the table was a man, one who held the entire room in his gaze. He seemed like he knew everything, and yet, held it to himself in fear.

“Enough of this Washington! Too many have come from your time. We can’t bring in another!” The lady retorted, cutting the air with her response.

“Alison this is my decision! Thomas Jefferson was unstable as in his own timeline as it was. Bringing him here was my fault, I understand that. But I know that this man won’t fail. I can assure you.” Washington stepped back, his arms folding as he recoiled. He stared at a man who stood pressed against the doorway.

“John?” Washington called out through the darkness.

“Yes sir?” Brunette curls bounced as green eyes narrowed tightly, curiosity boiling in his veins.

“Set the course of Weehawken, New York. July 12th, 1804.” Washington looked away from the group of people in the meeting hall. His old eyes staring into the glass window that lead out into the facility.

John stood baffled, there were only two names that were tied so tightly to that date, and only one died. Washington couldn’t be bringing him here, he had to know. “But sir! Isn’t that-“

“Yes John. We’re going to get him. Set the course. We’re going to get Alexander. I just hope he can fix what I’ve broken.” Washington sighed, looking at his own reflection. He was in for one hell of a week. After all, it was hard enough to debrief new recruits, but he had a feeling that Alexander wouldn’t act quite the same as everyone else. If Washington remembered the infamous man right, then it would take a lot longer than just one week to get that tom cat tamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter is world building!! Also you get to meet some more familiar faces.


	2. What Makes a man a Rouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition and an explanation on what a Rouge is, and why Thomas is wanted. Washington’s paranoid about paradoxes, but at this point, anything’s better than having Thomas run rampant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lore of the world is a bit confusing, and so if anything is out of place, just feel free to comment.

John left the room sprinting, but for the rest of the team, they simply shuffled out single file.  The lone soul in the room stood still, lost in thought, and perpetually stained with guilt from the recent turn of events. Washington was one of the first to come here, this facility unknown by everyone.  And yet, he had never messed up as bad as he had done now. No one had gone rogue on his watch, and Thomas didn’t seem like one to do so. He thought that he was safe. Shows what Fate thinks of the matter. 

The old man turned to look around at the empty room.  There he stood, in a room with futuristic swivel chairs and a holographic picture of the man he thought he could trust.  The man’s face was framed with a cold, barred outline with red letters printing ‘Wanted,’ across the top. On the bottom stood the list of charges he had committed, spanning all throughout time and space.  Washington thought he could trust Thomas, but it seems like time travel can drive anyone mad for power if they’re not properly examined. The lone soul turned off the projection, resetting the room before stepping outside.  

No one knew of this place, except those who dwell within it.  It’s structure is impossible, and it’s image is obsolete. The structure on the outside of the building looks like nothing more than a rolling hill in a dense forest.  But on the inside, that is were the true beauty lies. Cold and harsh tones mark the walls with color, seemingly able to capture the essence of winter and its brutal truths.  The Facility’s workers bustling around, varying stacks of papers and reviews what seemed like an infinite number of timelines. As Washington peered over, he recalled the stark differences in clothing.  There were two standard sets of clothing in this Facility, slight variations made the articles personal, but the fact still remained. There were the Analysts and there were the Agents. The roles of both teams have to do with what the facility does. 

See, Time is not flat, nor is it a constant unchanging motion.  It is in fact, a fluid stream of events that flows by, but only if the river has a source, and that source is filled.  There is not one timeline, but infinite with the universe. Each everyday and ordinary person has a timeline of their own, a set unknown guide as to what happens to them in their life.  With every individual line that flows correctly, a new drop fills the source for humanity’s timeline. Not every tragic event is an accident, and so many lines are cut short, but fill their purpose.  Yet there are moments in time that are not fixed. Even though one thing might be recorded as fact in the future won’t really happen in the past, it is a strange phenomenon that happens with Time. It’s not a constant, and every increment moves on its own, and they are unaffected by the overall timeline.  With every change in an a person’s life, the line loses its shape and becomes distorted. And like a disease, the distortion spreads. See, when time changes, it does not create a new universe, or a new timeline. It only breaks and folds into itself. The first crack was when time travel was invented, and without knowing the repercussions, the timeline was forever changed. 

When the first went back in time, they didn’t know that by interacting people without repercussions, they would change their timelines.  Some were faint, others caused a butterfly effect large enough to change the course of history. When the first returned to their time, they found it in ruins, war had broken out, and half the planet was uninhabitable from nuclear waste and radiation.  Mankind had been brought to the brink of extinction, and it was all their fault. 

The first realized that their wrongs couldn’t be fixed completely without creating a paradox in the process.  What the did instead, was fight fire with fire. They established a group of people, a group that would score through history books new and old, finding pivotal points that were affected and set the time line right again.  Soon, their work was done and their time was finally set right again. Yet those who participated in the group were never the same.

By going back in time, the people in the group severed their lines.  Time no longer affected them, and as such, they never aged. Not only did they never age, but their memories never changed.  Those who lived their regular lives were subjected to their lives and memories changing when agents altered the course of time.  Those who had their predetermined lines cut, remembered the past timelines, and knew the difference and what changed the time. It was because of these traits, that the first made the groups, and soon it became known as the ‘Facility’.  Though the year at the Facility was 4,078, Agents go as far back the Stone Age. Because even though the first’s travel was only to the late 1800’s, time travel distorts the timeline. Those distortions cause ripples and faults in Humanity’s timeline.  Causing slip ups and changes in a time that would be untouched by travelers and agents. As such, the more agents time travel, the more the timeline changes. But if they never went back, the world would fall into a nuclear winter, and life on earth would cease to exist.

As time grew on, more work was needed to be done in the Time distortion department, and as such, new Agents were taken in to help with the increasing changes.  Rather than gathering from the present day, Agents were taken from the greatest times in history, and the top leaders were taken and made into traveling agents.  The first and the original set found ways to rewind the body’s clock, bringing back the recently deceased and returning them to their prime. 

Washington was taken just before he was buried, quite a shock to find himself nearly three millennia in the future, with an eternal body, and an eternal duty to save mankind.  He was an Agent for over 200 years, then turned to Analytics when he had his fair share of traveling days. During his time as an Analyst, he grew in rank until he became a head of a team.  One of which, he was able to establish of his own men. He brought in John as soon as he could, Washington remembered his loyalty and service while he was still alive, so Johns as perfect for the job.  Washington brought in Thomas about fifty years later, while John was someone who switched between Analysts and Agent, Thomas stood firm in his role as an Agent.

Thomas performed exceptionally for being new.  He took being in his prime again with full stride.  He took every chance he could to get into the rough and dangerous missions.  Everyone assumed he would stay in the business for years. Until he was tasked with going back to the revolutionary war.  While he was doing his work, he forgot his own timeline, and stumbled across his younger self, and his late wife Martha. It had been over 100 years since he had seen her last, and even longer since she was alive.  In that moment, Thomas wanted nothing more than to be with his wife again. And as such, broke the one rule in his work, never interfere with your past life. 

When his past self believed his wife to be dead, Thomas snuck and stole her away.  He traveled back to their time and tried to heal her and revive her in any way he could, but it failed to work.  After the second death of his wife, Thomas fell into a spiral of madness. He cursed Fate out right, and stole many pieces of value, stealing a time machine in the process.  He became a rouge that day, and lived up to the devilish acts that came with it. His work became well known through the history books as the madman became a phantom of legend, bringing fire and burning great civilizations to ash.  He earned the title Wanted Rouge when he went after one of the originals, killing his past self in retaliation. The famous Agent fades to dust in the middle of the building before anyone knew what happened. 

Now, Washington stood on edge, everyone did.  Sure their work had experienced people going mad, but never in the same caliber as Jefferson.  He was a whole different type of mad, and he reveled in it. The rogue’s acts were his own doing, but it was Washington that had brought him onto his team.  Now, he prayed that Alexander could fix what Washington had started, and rid the world of the rampant rouge. Still, there was one problem. Alexander was one of those people who wasn’t supposed to be brought into this line of work.  

The first was a direct descendant of Alexander, and to have Alex brought here was a recipe for disaster.  When a soul is severed from it’s line, there’s a higher chance of having that person’s past life to be altered and distorted.  If Alexander’s life had been altered in a way that he never met his wife, then the first would never have been born. Paradoxes were nearly impossible to fix, but to fix one of that magnitude wouldn’t even be possible.  Which is why Washington’s call to bring Alexander in made everyone shutter at the thought. But it didn’t matter. If all went well, they could have an Agent even brighter than Jefferson once was. And that was a risk Washington was willing to take.  Before he could ponder any longer, John came running with another man trailing his heels.

“So sorry, sir.  Was stopped to make sure I had the right clearance.  Been working here for over 200 years, you’d think they know when I’m serious.”  John’s voice piped up, and from behind the brown haired boy, a soft chuckled could be heard.  

“I guess things with Thomas have gotten out of hand even for you if you’re considering bringing Alexander.  Washington, I don’t think you understand. He’s going to be the exact same as in the history books. He won’t act the way John or I act.  He’s still gonna live like he’s in 1804, he won’t be fully out of his era for at least a year. And besides, imagine how he’s gonna feel, looking at all of us, we’re dead in his world.  You remember how I acted when I met you again. I’m just saying, Alex might not be the best for this job. He was amazing for his time, but this is different. He might not perform as well as we want.”  The man stood poised, his back arched while looking down, his hair was tied back by a black ribbon, and his ponytail looked more like a pom Pom than anything else. 

“I understand your concern Lafayette, but trust me when I say this.  Alexander is the right man for the job, I’ll bet my life on it. I just hope that he’ll be able to adjust in time.”  Washing spoke, his words aimed at the Pom Pom man.

“Whatever the case, the machine’s ready.  I’ve recorded when we’re coming back and I’ve scheduled the system for Alexander’s revival.  Shall we?” John perked his head through the two, exclaiming with his hands as he talked.

The three walked into a warm grey room, with nothing more than themselves and a silver device with two buttons and a date.  They all stood, placing one hand on each other’s shoulders. John stood patiently waiting, after a soft nod from both, they took off.  John presses the button and no sooner did they find themselves in the courtyard of a park. The three starred around to get a look at the terrain, they had just begun to started walking when they heard it.  The two faithful shots that were fired crushed the sound barrier around them. Waiting for the soft ringing to end, the three sat up, and begun to walk toward it. Prepared to watch the death of a Founding Father from the safe area of cover.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The First is not gender ambiguous, it’s just that for precautionary reasons, they don’t teach anyone the gender or name to keep the secrecy. Seeing as the First is still alive after all these year because of immortality.


	3. What Comes Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander’s death was going to be a peaceful slip from the world, or so he thought.
> 
> Everyone’s favorite spy is now a bartender.
> 
> More lore on Time travel and what people do.

“It was tough.  When I learned that Alexander had died so soon.”  Lafayette tilted his head down in shame, out of the three men there, he was still alive when it happened.  

“I thought he’d at least make it to fifty.”  John chuckled, though morbid, he watched from behind tree as Alexander was rushed down to the river shore and begun to be paddled away.

—

Death was an odd feeling.  Alexander had run away from it all his life, but in his final moments, he welcomed it with open arms.  The only thing that Alexander regretted was how little he had done, though he had been ambitious all his life, Alexander felt that he had left his work in the fledgling phase, and that there was still so much more work to be done.  Alexander had aimed his pistol at the sky, it was his decision to go out without a fight, to die a simple death that was common among quarreling men. That he was his own downfall, his stubborn pride had made it impossible to just let go.  In the end, Alexander was going to die and be cast away into the blissful worlds of heaven above. Or so he thought. 

He had endured hours of pain and feeling his life fade away, he laid in bed with Eliza over his body.  A twinge is guilt ran through Alexander. He was going to leave his wife alone, how could he do that? What man was he to leave this world with his wife and children all over an idiot argument.  Not only that, but in his dying moments, he thought of his eldest son, and how he died so young, how he died the same way Alexander would moments later. He lifted up his hand slowly to reach Eliza’s, his eyes soft and finally free.

“I can’t wait to see you again Betsy.” Alexander cooed as he watched faint black spots begin to form around his vision.  He took a sharp inhale from the pain as he moved to kiss her cheek. The final breath Alexander drew from his lips was to whisper sweet nothings into his soon to be widowed wife, “It’s only a matter of time.”  And like a candle in the wind, one of the most extraordinary minds faded, his life snuffed out. 

—

“He’s dead.  Quickly now. No time to mourn, we have to get this done.”  Washington looked both ways, checking to see if the cost was clear.  He input a date on a tablet in his arm, and in a moment later, his Agent uniform became a formal 18’s century garment.  

He walked in, talked with some of the people, and silently signaled the others to get Alexander’s body.  John shuttered as he picked up his dead friend, ever so slightly wiping away a lock from his face. John had never known Alexander at this age, smiling slightly at the fact that even if Alexander was forty-seven, he was still handsome.  When the three left the room, four if they counted the literal deadweight Laf was heaving over his shoulders, they were quick to get out of that time.

“Do everything right Washington?  Made it so they won’t notice he’s gone?” Lafayette called, his breath heavy from the strenuous exercise and new found weight. 

“Yes Lafayette.  Made it so they think he’s in the casket, put a stable mass projection if they want to check on him.  But I made sure that no one touched him when they buried him, and that it was a closed casket funeral.  It’s better that way, they think he’s passed, and we keep the man. Come in boys. Let’s go home.” Washington sighed as they made it to a dark alleyway.

In most cases, an Agent’s uniform had two devices on either forearm.  One masked the uniform into the common clothes of that era, and the other was the time machine.  Over the hundreds of years, the Analysts and Agents came together to design it in a way for fast travel.  There were many different types of machines. The ones in the uniform were for a single person journey, or a journey where all people have uniforms.  The second was a small hand held device that had to recharge at the facility, it allowed for people to go back in time and pick up someone new who didn’t have a uniform.  The third was an actual machine, one the size of a flatbed truck, it could go anywhere in time or space, including the future. That machine ran off of the life within the user, and since most travelers had severed lines, their lives were infinite, and so the cost was small.  Yet the longer that trip, the more energy and physically exhausting it was on the rider. Thomas Jefferson stole one of the seven time machines, the only seven in existence that ran off of someone’s life. But these four only needed the rechargeable one, and making sure they had a firm grip on Alexander, they departed the era in a blink of light.

As soon as they got there, the three rushed to the rewinding area.  This was section of the hospital wing, where the dead were subjected to a multitude of tests, injections, and surgeries that allowed them to come back to life.  All three men turned away when Alexander was taken in. No one wanted to see their friend put through that trama, thank Fate that he was dead and he wouldn’t feel it.  All of them subconsciously shifted when a soft buzzing sound began, they had all gone through the process as well, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant to think about. After Alexander was ready, his body would go into a chamber in which reversed his aging process, but kept his memories.  The process would take two hours, and so John piped up. 

“It’s been a long day.  I want a drink and I’m sure he’s gonna want one too.”  John chuckled little, wincing at the sound of Alexander’s rib cage being broken.  The fool had gotten himself shot, they had to get the bullet out and repair the damage it caused.  

“I second that, first rounds on me, but let’s not be drunk when Alexander wakes up.”  Lafayette shifted at the last part. There was no saying if Alexander was going to wake up.  Not every soul survived the process, Alexander could very well not wake up. 

The conversation was soon dropped as the trio moved to the bar.  While none of them were paid to do their jobs, they were given free food and  whatever necessities were needed. It was on a point system, the more work they did, and the longer they had been working, the more they earned.  Agents and Analysts alike could spend that on whatever they wanted. While food was free, spirits were not, so Lafayette paying meant a lot. Seeing as they were going to have to deal with Alexander later that evening.

The three sat on the stools, a soft Jazz playing in the background as the bartender poured them glasses.  Analysts had to work full time, but when Agents were off, they were tasked with doing different jobs around the Facility.  The Bartender was an old friend of theirs, Hercules Mulligan, who’s military might and stealth made him an excellent choice for an Agent.  He had gotten a few other orders before theirs, so the three chatted away the time.

“Alright boys, round one’s here.  Say, you guys came in rushing a body into the rewind chamber.  Looked like another one from our time, who was it?” Hercules’s voice was blended well with the music in the background.  He poured a pint for himself and sat with the men.

“You’re not gonna like the answer Herc.  I don’t think anyone will like it. Wash here made the decision without any of the original’s approval.” John chimed as he looked over to see Washington. 

“Oh come on, it’s not like you brought another Founding Father right?”  Herc’s chuckle faded away when he saw the look on their faces. “John? Laf? Wash?  Who did you bring back?”

John held his head low, he heaved a sigh, then spoke up.  “Hamilton. We brought back Alexander Hamilton.”

The color from Hercules’s face faded in an instant.  They had to be joking, no person would be stupid enough to bring Alexander back.  He was someone who shouldn’t, couldn’t come back. The First forbid his revival, he was one of three that weren’t allowed to be brought back.  Hercules knew it was for the Rouge dilemma, but going this far, it was absurd. “And the First doesn’t know?”

“No, but I suppose they will once Alex wakes up.  I’m sure he’ll cause quite a scene.” John laughed at his joke, he always tried to make light of the situation, but this could end up badly.  There was no going back, and all four knew it.

“Well, you’ve all finished your pints, and we’ve been chatting for a while.  I reckon you want to be there when Alexander wakes up. We all remember our first time seeing this place.  It’s shell shocking, dying in one place, then feeling a blackness fall over us, and then the next we know, we’re here.  In a white walled room, on a table, and sore everywhere.” Hercules set his pint down with a thud, taking a look at each man.  

Washington was smiling, remembering what Alexander was like while he was in his prime, a man with a fire as a soul and a river for a mind.  John shifted awkwardly, he hadn’t seen Alexander in so long, and after hearing how his death affected his last years, he felt guilty. Lafayette looked at his pint, chuckling slightly.  He and Alex got into a lot of trouble in the army, being the unstoppable immigrants. He knew how Alex fared in hard challenges, but this was one hell of a challenge. How would Alexander react to being dragged from his time, and not being dead.  How would Alexander react to not seeing his mother or heaven for that matter. None of them wanted to guess the answer to that question, but they knew it would only be a short while until they found that answer. 

The three bid their friend farewell, and started to the recovery portion of the hospital wing.  Alex would have just come out of the rewind chamber, which means they put him in the recovery area until he woke up.  The three stepped in, nostalgia sweeping over them as they looked over their friend. It had been countless years since they had seen him alive, even more longer since his prime years of living.  His hair had returned to its magnificent spruce color, after being aged to a disheveled grey mess. His Carribean skin tone had returned to its golden bronze, after being bleach a stark white from his days of being cooped up in an office.  His heart monitor showed a flat line, as was expected, he was dead after all. John caught sight of a pale blinking behind Alexander’s ear, a soft smile formed as he watched it grew stronger. 

It had taken years of studying, but there was finally a way to bring a soul back to its body, to bring a soul in limbo to its body.  All it took, was a small homing beacon, placed on the back side of the dead. It was supposedly made to bring a soul back to the body by force, and if done correctly, merge into it.  Like the time machines, the device ran off the life of the person, so to see a small blinking meant that there was some life in Alexander. He was whole again, and the growing light meant that he was coming back to life.  

In a flash of pale blue light, the device fell off the body after being overloaded with energy.  No sooner than that, Alexander’s body shot up, as if a bolt of electricity had gone through him. His eyes open, heavily panting, and frightened.  Alex wiped his head back and forth, until he settled on the three in the room. Lafayette, Washington, and John, all in there youth, and all standing over him.

“John?  Marie? Mr. Washington?  Where am I?” Alex spoke, his accent think yet his words elegant, all three shattered with emotions.  Their friend was back, he was alive again, no amount of happiness could describe how they felt.

“That’s a little hard to explain mon ami.”  Lafayette stuttered, slipping into his French accent as a sign of nervousness.

“But you’re all here, that must mean…” Alexander’s hand traveled to the spot where he was shot, “That’s right.  Aaron Burr shot me, that means this is heaven then.”

Washington heaved a sigh as he stepped forward to place a hand on Alex’s shoulder.  “No Alexander. This isn’t heaven, yes you were shot, yes you did die, but not anymore Alexander.  You’re alive, and now, you’re needed. Welcome to the first day of your new life. Welcome to the Facility.”


	4. This Won’t end Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander’s got some things to say about his situation. But before he can get to far into his interrogation, someone of major importance sees them and goes to stop them.

“I’m what?” Alexander questioned the three men above him. 

“You’re alive. You died in 1804, but using technology in the future, we brought you back. Even though it feels like only an hour ago you died, it’s been over 2,000 years. With you having just passed, your soul was still connected to your body on earth, so when we took it, your soul went with it. After that it was a few simple surgeries to fix any illnesses, and rewind your body. You won’t age anymore Alexander. You’ll have the appearance of a 21 year old for as long as you live.” John answered blatantly, trying to keep it as simple as possible for Alexander, seeing as he was just in a different era. 

When John received no new input, he continued. “But, that’s not the only part. You may be immortal in a sense, but you still need to eat and work. The latter is the hardest thing to describe. See, we need you to understand, Alexander. Thomas Jefferson has been caus-“

“-Thomas was elected president, he accomplished his goals. What has he got to do in…3,804?” Alexander asked begrudgingly. Even after death he still had to deal with that man.

The three gave Alexander a quick run down of the last two hundred years. From Washington’s first thoughts about bringing in the Virginian, to the very day they stood firm. All the while answering any pop up questions that Alexander inquiried upon. When they finished, Alex stood still for a moment, his eyes glistening with passion, anger, exhaustion, and possibly the slightest hint of moisture.

“Where’s Betsy?” He asked blankly while staring at his hands, his eyes following the IV that held a pale blue liquid.

The three froze, emotional attachments were the biggest issue with new recruits. When promised an afterlife with their loved ones all their mortal lives, only to wake up with a job and requirement placed over their heads. It wasn’t good for the recruit, mentally or emotionally. Washington shuttered as he spoke, “She’s not here Alexander.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his fingered tightly coiling around the bedsheets. “Why not?” No one dared mention the fluctuation of his voice as he spoke. 

“She’s one of the few that aren’t allowed to be brought back.” Lafayette murmured quickly.

“And who decides who decides who gets to be brought back?! I didn’t get to decide if I wanted to be back or not! All I wanted was to pass without pain. I died with agony, but I thought I would at least see my family. Now you three have damned me to my own personal hell! One where my family is gone from my reach forever!!” Alexander spewed. He glared at each one of the three with a ferocity none had seen in all their years. “Never again will I see my wife, my mother, or my eldest child!” Alexander paused, choking back a sob. “The child who died for my honor. The child who at my hands, his life slipping away before I could ever say my goodbye.” 

At the last remark, Washington stiffed, the action went unnoticed by all except Alexander, who was far to lost in his anger to ponder about it. Lafayette shivered, not wanting to talk about the convoluted topic Alex has accidentally brought up.

“That would be the First’s doing.” John said blankly.

“Pardon? First?” Alexander’s anger died away, and turned into a curning void of curiosity and internal turmoil. 

“The First to travel. They built this establishment, and they’re the highest in authority this place gets. We don’t even know the name, age, or even gender of the person. All we know is stories.” Laf beckoned as Alex grew more puzzled. 

“So you’re saying that there is a person who you have never met, that controls the inner workings of this system?” Alexander asked almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “Washington you must know as a political figure that this is ludicrous!”

“Alexander it is not my place to question the First’s placement. They have done things that no one else has, so who are we to judge? Besides, they’re the last of us to still bleed mortal blood.” Washington signed, sitting down in the chair a step away.

“What does that mean? Bleed mortal blood? We all bleed crimson in the end.” Alex retorted, but he found only awkward glances.

“Alexander, when your body is rewound, you don’t keep your blood. Everyone in this room, Washington, Laf, me, even you, we don’t have blood in our veins anymore. Our body’s are in an improbable state of being. Our metabolism still go, and our body can still grow stronger, but, the blood in your body before is older, decade and practically useless and can no longer function. What supplements that is this liquid here. In short, it’s an immoral synthetic blood.” John said wearily, glancing at his blue veins as Alexander did the same.

“So not only have you ripped me from my release of death, but you have also ripped away a part my humanity? I’m no longer Human John? How did you think this was going to play out? Did you think I was going to accept this? Everything I’ve ever been has been taken from me. And everything I ever stood for is out of my reach. Instead of bleeding red like I had already done, I’m now forced to accept that I’m no longer human for an eternity!” Alexander ripped the IV from his wrist, not even caring about the liquid dripping from his wrist as well as the needle. “And now I have to be forced to work under this elusive figure who I know nothing about. This person whom I’m guessing is immortal but still human, while I have to suffer through a halfass version without even agreeing to it! Never! Never shall I bow my head to someone who I know so little about. You say there are rumors and stories? Tell me then, what makes this one person so worthy?”

As Alexander screamed at John, he did his best to avoid his gaze. He peered out the window blankly trying to ignore the truth that Alexander spoke of.  
At first nothing caught his eye, but then it hit him. Up from the tallest room in the Facility, was the very person in question, peering down at the area below. All color drained from the southerner’s face as he saw the figure meet his gaze, and then in the turn of a dime, bolt out the door. The First had seen Alexander, clearly recognizing him, and was coming down to see why the hell he was there after the First had clearly stated Alexander was never to come back.

John grabbed Alex’s wrist, tugging him off the bed. “We’ll tell you later Alexander but right now, we have to go.” 

“Why?” Alex spatted, quickly regaining the feeling in his legs again. 

“Because the First saw us, and how they’re coming!” John roared, the other’s faces darkened.

“Why not let them see me?! I want to see this mystical ruler who’s never seen.”

“Alexander they wear a fully garbed cloak and helmet constantly, when we saw they’re never seen, we mean that they don’t show their face. They’re often seen in the top levels of security walking around maintaining order throughout the place, that’s why we don’t see them often.” Lafayette sputtered as he scrambled to find something for Alexander to wear. 

“He’ll be a sitting duck if he’s still in the medical garbs. Quick, look around for an Agent’s uniform, especially one with a helmet.” Washington fumbled, turning over drawers, flinging out pants and a shirt that would fit Alexander.

“I still don’t see why I can’t meet him!” Alexander cried in the misted of the chaos.

“Because you’re one of the people he said to never bring back!” John bellowed as he turned to face Alexander. 

The room fell still, no one moved an inch, nor dared to utter a breath. Time was of the essence, but none of them dared to move, only waiting with baited breath for someone to break the silence. 

“Excuse me?” Alexander spoke, barely more than a whisper.

“Like Eliza, you were one of the few that under no circumstances should we bring back. But, with Washington at the head of this steamboat heading straight to hell, we decided we needed you to help fix the Jefferson problem.” John spout, digging for clothes. After finding a helmet that would fit Alexander, he grabbed the Caribbean by the wrist and threw him in the bathroom. “You have less than a minute Alexander. Change like our life depends on it. Well, as a matter of fact it does.”

Washington scanned the window, no guards seemed to be coming, but that didn’t slow down his heart rate. At any moment, the First could come out of the stairwell and ruin the lives of the four men that stood within it. Rather than waiting for that to happen, Alexander came booking out the bathroom.

“The reality of the situation has dawned on me and don’t rather feel like dying a second time today.” Alexander piped as he slammed the helmet on his head, only to freeze a moment later and nearly collapse. John dove under him and picked up the now unconscious Alexander.

“We should probably have told him about the interface in the helm...ehh, I’m sure he’s fine.” John chuckled as he threw Alexander over his shoulder. The limp body merely sagging as it’s consciousness was elsewhere.

Washington held out the door for the three, ushering them out with a quick farewell. “I’ll stay here and take the blame. The First will be much more lientant with me than you three, especially the one in your arms. Go now quickly, have him hold up in John’s quarters, I’ll most likely see you later tonight.”

The two have a quick nod and carried Alex to the stairwell, with their last glance, they saw the First bolt into the infirmary, out of anger or any other emotion couldn’t be told from their distance. Yet the swiveling of their arms made it clear that there was at least some anger spewing. They turned on their heels heading up. 

Washington held his chest high feigning pride and fearlessness, yet his twitching left eye said otherwise. He jumped slightly when he heard the door burst open and being slammed shut. The First’s shoulders rose and fell heavily, as if they was breathing with madness. After a short moment, they regained their physical presence. They took a step closer to Washington, grabbing his uniform by the collar.

The First paused, their hand slid down the shirt and let go. Their voice distorted through their helmet. “Now is not the time nor the place to be little you.” He turned back to the door, leaving his head perched to the side for Washington to hear him, “My office. Ten minutes. You better have a damn good reason why you brought him back.”

Their shaggy cape swayed side to side as they left the room. It’s dark sapphire blue silk folding along their backside, prestene feathers of grey black and a creamy white lay set in its place. Their slim boots looked more like dress shoes at the bottom, but formed into a English style horse riding boot at the top. They wore what looked like tight dress slacks that curved in slightly at the hips, yet held the same durable and sturdy fabric that most agents wore. Their torso was covered by a thick grey long sleeve shirt, it was similar to an Analyst's uniform, except the neck rose up farther than the traditional garb. 

Then there was their helmet, custom fit and made, unlike any other in their work force. The helm was narrow at the jawline and forehead, but the back was much larger. The etchings of battles and the deep gashes the metal shone proved its durability as well as the work the first had encountered before. It swept the top and back of the head, cradling it tightly and flushing up into a bird feather tip type shape. The voice box was covered by a dark rim of black metal that covered the majority of the helmet except for one part. The visor was a blood orange hue that filled the vast blackness with much needed color, it was a thin slit towards the center that dove into a triangle view of where their eyes would be. Cool grey covered what wasn’t black or orange and gave was into the most infamous part of the helmet’s appeal, the horns. Sprouting from just above the ears and temple, two symmetrical navy blue figures rose, turning into a stark ivory white as they climbed in the spire. They dove in a way that matched the slicked back metal at the back, just barely missing it on the path. They traveled farther towards the back of the First’s head rather than vertical, bending up and down before settling at a higher position at the tips. They earned the First the nickname dragon and devil from their formidable appearance, and their venerable appeal which came from the similarities between the horns of the helm and that of a Chinese Dragon.

The First was never seen without their helmet, doing so would give away their identity. So that became a symbol of their power. And as Washington was the First walk away, he caught the smallest glimpse of a curl poking its lighter colored tip out of the helm’s ridged. It made the man feel a little less like a dead man walking and more cheerful. He’d need that cheerfulness for when he would be spat at during their one on one. Sighing softly, Washington left the recovery room, following the staircase up to the tallest level. A level restricted for the First, originals, and the slim few with clearance. Washington just so happened to have received it a mount prior to the Jefferson incident, and almost had it revoked. He was more than happy that measures never went that far. When he reached the top, the First was already in the room. Washington heaved a sigh, taking a sharp intake of breath before facing the dragon.


	5. The First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington must face the Dragon before he is to get to Alex, and Alexander finds out what lies within the helmet of every agent’s uniform

The room was small, it was walled with windows on all four sides, three of which were one sided windows, the other was how John saw them.  It was the wall that overlooked the recovery area, and the mission center. Inside the room was colored pale blue on the walls. An oak desk sat in the middle, sitting atop a cool grey carpet.  Holograms were set around the area, giving the room an unnatural blue tint. In the middle stood the First, and whatever they had planned for Washington.

“Well?”  Their voice was distorted, unnaturally raspy to hide whatever gender or identity would be given away in the vocal patterns and pitch. 

“Before I speak, are we alone?”  Washington asked, he needed to tread lightly if he was to survive, and personal if he was to get his plan across.  The first saw what he meant in the question and quickly nodded.

“If we are alone, then why do you still wear that mask?  I already know who you are, sir.”

The first stood still, unmoved by the pronoun.  Washington was one of the twelve that knew his identity.  The First knew that Washington would use it against him. With a heavy sign, he undid his cape, and took off his helmet, staring at Washington as he did so.  

“Now tell me, why did you bring him here?  You know full well that it is a capital offense to revive one of the three.”  His voice was soft, like a rosy velvet compared to the harsh distortion he usually spoke with.  

“The Jefferson problem has gotten out of hand.  And I believed Alexander was the best candidate to end it.”  At the mention of Alexander’s name the First shuttered.

“So you broke one of the two rules here, without my consent?”  There was no emotion in the verse, and it frightened Washington.  How could a man so old that had gone through so much be so stable in what would shatter someone else.

“I believe it’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission.”  Washington spoke with underlying bite.

“You say that as if you have an air of authority.  Do not get me wrong Washington, you were born before me, you lived through the worst possible things during your mortality.  But I have lived longer, and I have seen things that you cannot comprehend. So don’t back talk me sir, you forget who you’re talking to.”  The First spoke, letting his words sink into Washington’s ego. 

Both men were silent, even though Washington stood at an astounding 6’ 3”, the First stood taller, at least 6’ 6”.  There were few that could make Washington quiver, and right now, the number one was staring him down, deciding whether or not his life would be worth saving, or losing to prove a point.  When the silence finally broke, it was the First again.

“You’re lucky we had connections when we were still both alive.  And you’re lucky you’re one of my favorites here. If you were neither of those things Washington, then you would have been shot on principle.”  His voice was softer than before, leniency was showing in his eyes as he spoke.

“Thanks you, sir.  You won’t regret keeping him or me alive.”  Washington spoke with a confidence he didn’t have.

“Prove it.  Train him fast, and train him well.  If he’s not ready to become and agent in two years, then consider both of yourselves done for.”  The First’s hand was draped over his helm as he spoke.

“But even the best take three sir, how can I-“

“Would you rather not try at all?”  His voice was firm again, which made Washington shut his mouth quickly.

“No, sir, I will do as you ask.”  His confidence was re establishing itself, but there were time when it still faltered.

“Good.  And one more thing, George.  If Alexander finds out who I am, before I deem it the right time.  Both of you will be personally hunted down by me,” His voice never went above a sickeningly low hiss, “Have my made myself clear?”

Washington gulped, “Yes sir, he won’t know a thing.”

The First nodded in approval.  He moved to put on his helmet once more, than spoke again, the usual voice box distortion sending shivers down Washington’s spine.  “Good, something tells me that he wouldn’t take well to knowing that I’m still alive.”

—•—

There was a still white silence, and time had seemed to stop all together.  Alexander seemed to be floating, he had no weight, he couldn’t move, but he was conscious, and he could see and hear.  And what he saw and heard nearly stopped his heart dead in its tracks. There before him, floating in the infinite white domain, was a women.  Whose ivory skin and coal black hair made his heart swell. Even if he had been lost in the dark for a million years, he still wouldn’t be able to forget the face of his wife.  For there in the space just a few feet in front of him, floated Elizabeth, dressed in an agent’s uniform, and smiling happily.

“Hello! Welcome to the Interactive Agent Mindspace.  My name is Eliza, how may I be of service?” Her voice was just like it had been the night they met, Alexander nearly broke into tears, he thought he’d never see her again.  

“Oh Betsy. It’s been so long, I’m so sorry, for everything I’ve done.  I’m so sorry I left you without even saying goodbye. Oh Eliza, I can’t explain to you the way my heart pangs for you.”  Alexander reaches out to touch Eliza’s fingers. 

Yet the moment they skimmed, a flash of light occurred and both figured seemed to drop to a previously unknown area.  The floor was made of tile, and both figures stood up quickly. Eliza was the first up, then Alexander, she spoke with a soft breath, almost shaking. “You knew me.  You knew the real me.”

“I beg your pardon?”  Alexander rubbed the side of his chest where he seemed to have fallen on.

“I’m an interactive AI, based off the mannerisms and memories of someone named Elizabeth Schuyler.  When we touch hands, I gain access to every memory you possess. Normally I can read through the memories and store them away, but with you, I can’t read them at all.  Not only that, but you knew me, you knew me very well, sir.” She stood in the garments as if she had never known anything else, Alexander, who still found The Who set up itchy and uncomfortable in places, marvels at his wife, or rather what seemed to be her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t seem to understand, who are you if you are not my Elizabeth.  What do you mean based off her, but not actually her? I am quite new to this whole “Facility” thing, and I don’t seem to follower.”

Eliza perked her head up, hearing his words and frowning slightly.  She pulled out a holographic screen from thin air, and began to type and read through articles.  “You are Alexander Hamilton, are you not?”

He nodded swiftly, and she shook her head.  

“Alright then.  Judging by your latest memories, you woke up a mere ten minute ago.  So there’s a lot I need to cover.” She spoke swiftly, with Alexander’s shock, it was hard to keep up.  “Alright. I’ll start you with a fairytale, one that began this whole world. For this is the story of the First.  Our founder.” 

Alexander stepped towards Eliza, “I don’t need to be told a fairytale.  I need to be told how to get out of here.”

The AI brought up another screen, it seemed like a video was playing, yet it was filtered through a futuristic lens.  Eliza sighed, “You don’t want to get out of here yet, I just tapped into your visual cortex. John’s caring you right now, and fast.  They’re taking you to what I assume to be John’s quarters. For now, I’d stay here and get caught up. You’re not supposed to be here, the fact that you are means you’re meant to do something.  It’s best if you know what’s going on.”

The new agent sat still, nodding his head in agreement.  With the queue, the AI continued

“As you know, the First is the only immortal being in this line of work to still be in their mortal bodies.  Everyone else here has died and their body was artificially returned back to its prime, but when they died, Fate took it upon herself to steal them from the mortal world, and to make them the first immortal.”  She paused, waiting for the questions that she was sure to come.

Alexander spoke softly, “So who is this Fate you speak of?  You speak of the ideal and theory as if it is a person.”

Eliza shook her head, “While we aren’t sure if there is a God, multiple, or none at all, we do know that there are beings, immortal and important to this world.  Fate is the immortal lady who helps us heal Time. She changes the thoughts of important figures in order to lead them down the path that was meant to be followed.  She has only presented herself to the First, and that was when she brought them back to life. That clear?”

Alexander nodded, his eyes attentive as he listened.

“The First claims that she has a physical state, like one they could see and touch.  And thus, that’s what we believe. Now, Fate brought them up to the world of immortals, having taken pity at the circumstances of their death.  She believed that, with proper teachings, they could lead their world into a new dawn. It was well over a thousand years before the First had come to earth once more, having studied their passage into the future, they decided that now was the time to take a stand.  For you see, Time grows old, and once every few million years, something big has to happen to revert him back to his youthful form. Time grows with humanity, and with every new timeline fulfilled, he grows older, and with every new revolutionary point in time, he reverts to his young self and the cycle repeats.  The First was sent down to make a change in history, one which with the help of Fate and Time themselves, could rely on being the perfect reset.” Eliza stopped, she typed something into her hologram, and then returned to speak.

Her voice wavered heavily, she began, but spoke softer this time.  “What Fate and Time didn’t realize, was that despite all of their teachings, and all that the First has been taught, they were still human.  And thus, the very event that was supposed to heal and renew Time, ultimately shattered him. The First, with the knowledge of space, physics, and his immortality, created a time machine.  The event that started it all, the moment that Time’s steady flow of life forked, and the moment that the First went back in time.”

Alexander felt a heavy wave crash over him, it was nearly too much, the fact that these people, people who looked up to someone as an idol, was their entire downfall.  And that they were stolen from their afterlife to fix someone else’s mess. Yet he knew he wasn’t in the place to talk, he had made countless errors when he was alive, and had caused multiple lives, including Betsy’s to ultimately end in ruins.  He sat silently, awaiting the new information he would receive.

“The First is still in contact with Fate, Time is still to weak to reappear.  Even though he has healed a great amount, he still doesn’t like the great scar that the First caused.  Still, that is why you are here, Jefferson has gone against Fate’s teachings and has thrown Time back into a frenzy.  Now, any questions?” She sat down, dragging the hologram with her. Alex couldn’t help but smile at how she thumped her knee up and down like his own Betsy had.

“Yes, I do, please, tell me, where did the First go, and why do they hide their appearance?”  He asked quickly. It plagued him to know why the leader of this place had hide away for hundreds of years.

“Well, for one, when they went to go back in time, they went to see their dying mother.  She was at her ends meet, and before her final breath, they wanted to give her peace. While still in the era of their birth, the First explored countless things, sightseeing, bumping into people and chatting, even going off to visit their own grave.  But the second thing they did, bump into people, that is what destroyed time. They stopped people from getting where they needed to go, which caused a rapid butterfly effect. Governments fell and monarchs grew back again only to have the cycle continue.  Countless countries and empires died in flames from wars never meant to have happened,” Eliza sighed heavily, as if talking about the First with Alexander was an uncomfortable subject. 

“As for why they live behind a mask, well, it’s a few things.  If you were the reason an immortal being is weaker than if it were dead, wouldn’t you hide in shame?  And it’s also to protect themself, a lot of people have a vendetta towards them, like you had when you were still alive.  Some, if they knew who they were, or when they were born, would try to kill them before Fate took them in. Not only that, but they’ve recruited some people who wouldn’t take to knowing who they were well...”  She stopped, and for a moment, Alexander say Eliza’s eyes dart towards and away from him, “some people’s deaths were tied to theirs, and so to save aggression, the First hides their face.”

Alex stayed still and quiet, he didn’t know how to respond.  There was so much about the First that he had known, but with every answer, he craved to know who he was supposed to be lead by.  He wished to know why he wasn’t allowed to be brought back, and why the First made such a big deal about it. And more than anything, he wanted to how he was to fit into the “Facility’s Social Structure.”  He thanked Fate for having John, Laf, and Washington in his new line of work, rather than being alone. As his mind drifted more and more towards those three men, Eliza picked up on it. 

“You know, the boys have you in bed now, you can wake up now, go back to the real world.”  She spoke swiftly and lowly.

With a nod, the AI waved her hand, and the infinite white room they were sitting in disappeared, and Alexander was left staring into a screen of his own.  It was the central visor screen, which showed him the year, date, who he was, and had extra slots for mission objectives and other things. But those were for a later date, what Alex was more interested in was the revolutionary man with the curly brown hair sitting beside him as he was in his subconscious.  Alex stirred to take the helmet off, and with a tight tug, it came off. He huffed as he leaned up against John, wishing that the day could finally end, and he could get some sleep.


End file.
